This morning's ride was well attended and included a lost soul in search of salvation after a few months of weight training. Apparently his regimen of daily 16oz Guinness curls was no substitute for turning the cranks on a mountain bike.
We also earned the dubious honor of resetting the crash counter. This one was about 6 inches away from a bloody season ending trip to the ER for one of our riders (not the Guiness drinking one). I know the dirty sheet rock screws jutting out of those slimy logs by the Creative Playthings crossing are galvanized (i.e., not rusty) but that would have been little consolation as they would have ripped through the hand attempting to break the fall into the manure tainted muckpit next to the easy to underestimate log crossing. Wow, that was close. To paraphrase a famous song lyric, that was a "big 6 inch."
The latter part of this week looks wet, so maybe one more sunrise ride before the weekend. Father's day is Sunday, I am thinking a road trip to MD or DE on Saturday.